


Yes

by ballpoint



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: 1610, M/M, Ultimates - Freeform, prompt, steve rogers - Freeform, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-02
Updated: 2009-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballpoint/pseuds/ballpoint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circumstances change, and Steve decides to change with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer**: Characters and situations are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. No profit is being made off this fan-written work.  
> **Notes**: British spellings. Prompt for posy who wanted me to have a crack at a 'happy' Ultimates. About 650 words. Not my usual fare, no.

It astounded Steve how quickly he and Tony Stark fell into each other. It didn't matter, Steve would think, before Tony's mouth and hands stole his senses and reason. It didn't matter what they did, what _they_ were, because Tony was going to die any moment anyway. At nights, they wrestled in the shadows across the expanse of Tony's bed. Their bodies would be slick with sweat and fluids both natural and applied, limed by low lighting. There was the lash of tongues on flesh to see who would cry out first from shocked pleasure. This was the constant, as the alcohol on Tony's breath.

It didn't matter, they didn't matter, was his mantra. Tomorrow might never come.

Today, the sun bounced off the light splashed terrace, soft shuffled across the fog coloured slate floor, and cannon balled right into their bed. Normally Steve enjoyed the images of New York waking up: the pace of the traffic going from sluggish to manic, little miniature cars on grey strips of road. The city kicking its tempo up a notch, spiked by its own caffeine as it shed its jaunty night glitters for the sleek, sober lines of the day. Then Steve would disconnect from the world outside and focus on the intimate _here_; the still warm weight of a lightly snoring Tony, the flutter of lashes, the bridge of his nose. The zephyr of Tony's breath on Steve's chest, as it stirred the flesh there. All of this leading to a tsunami of relief that swamped Steve when he realised Tony was still here. Not that he'd ever admit that.

"It's gone, just like... that?"

"I hate to bore you with the details, but callooh, callay, it's a glorious day, Steve." Tony's body vibrated from his sheer excitement, the puffs of breath skimmed across Steve's skin. Automatically, Steve drew the sheet over them both. Due to his medications, Tony had a tendency to be cold in the mornings. "I'm not even annoyed that it might be magic."

At Steve's sceptical silence, Tony conceded with a huff. "Fine, probably a tad annoyed. But magic is science as yet discovered, and this calls for a celebration. _Veuve-Clicquot '89_ ? Or Dom? Always a classic."

Tony made to reach for his robe at the edge of the bed, but Steve grabbed his wrist, and Tony turned to him and smiled. "I always forget how quick you are," he said, using his other hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"If your tumour is gone," Steve said simply, "you should stop before your liver goes too."

For a moment, Tony stilled, as he looked at Steve's hand on his arm, and took in the fact that it was still there. It was an easy touch, and not tied to anything sexual at all. On Steve's part, it did not seem fair to put effort into a wasted endeavour, but now-

"Why, Rogers," Tony's voice was light, almost flirtatious as he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "One would think you cared."

Tony offered an exit, and waited for Steve to take it. The tumour was gone, and as such, whatever circumstances they came together changed. It was a practical consideration, and a pertinent one.

Steve's answer surprised them both. "Probably I do."

There was a stunned silence after that. Deliberately, Steve took Tony's hand, linked their fingers together. "Let's see where this goes," and winced at the caution inherent in his tone, but he could only try.

Tony wrinkled his nose as he looked at their linked fingers together, the rose of Steve's Irish stock to the dull gold tint of his. Tony thought about the cons and pros of this merger, looked at Steve, looked at their joined hands and thought again.

Then he sighed. "I gather we'd have to look into that ghastly sobriety thing, then?"

"It won't be too boring," Steve promised as he squeezed Tony's hand, noting that during their exchange, Tony never let go. "I promise."


End file.
